Truth or Dare Hetalia Style
by Tanya Tsuki
Summary: The bosses have decided that the best way to better relations among the Nations is to lock them in a building over night. Bored, our heroes have decided to undertake a game of truth or dare. A full list of pairings and characters is at the beginning.


_The summary doesn't leave much room, does it? The pairings that can be found (or are heavily hinted at) in this fic are Spain/Romano, Finland/Sweden, Lithuania-Belarus-Russia, America/Russia. Characters included are America, England, France, Spain, Romano, Germany, Veneziano, Prussia, Denmark, Sweden, Finland, Norway, Iceland, Sealand, Latvia, Estonia, Poland, Lithuania, Belarus, Russia, Ukraine, Greece, Turkey, Egypt, Hungary, Austria, Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Seychelles, Taiwan, China, Hong Kong, Korea, Japan, Cuba, and Canada._

_I hope you enjoy~_

ooOOoo

It was all because of the bosses, really. The Nations had gotten into one of their many disagreements, yelling so loudly that not one neutral party could get a word in edgewise. Thus, it was suggested that they spend some time together, bonding—or being kept out of the hair of the bosses, depending on your point of view. To the bosses, this meant locking the poor Nations into the building, leaving sleeping bags, personalized night clothes, and food at strategic locations, and, of course, making sure the bars on the windows were secure enough that no Nation could break through and leave. To the Nations, this signified a night of pure torture at the hands of the people they were supposed to trust most. They cried. They pleaded. They bargained. The bosses didn't listen.

Thus, they were forced into a sleepover, whether they liked it or not.

ooOOoo

"What now? This is so totally lame," a bored Poland asked after the Nations had changed into their pajamas. Everyone was staring at each other, not sure how they should interact without politics or disagreements as an excuse. A couple of minor arguments had already broken out, and it was only Switzerland's gunslinger skills that prevented them from getting too out of hand.

"I know!" America shouted a minute later, smacking his fist into an open palm for emphasis. "We can play truth or dare!" There was groaning, but America ignored it, instead choosing to point a finger at England. "England! Truth or dare?"

England scowled. "Don't just announce a ridiculous game and assume we're all playing, git." At America's crestfallen look, however, England sighed and turned away, grumbling, "Truth."

America grinned. The fake puppy dog pout worked every time. "Is it true," America paused for effect, feeling encouraged by the curious looks he was getting. "Is it true that McDonald's is your favorite fast food restaurant?"

"What the hell kind of bloody question is that?" England shouted, taking a step back in shock, flushing. How did he know to ask that? Who told him?

"Just answer the question!" Someone who sounded an awful lot like a snickering Prussia shouted.

Glaring at no one in particular, England sighed. Might as well get the truth out there and move on quickly. "Yes."

Of course, the truth couldn't be taken quietly. Oh no. America shouted a triumphant "I knew it!" and before long, the whole room had descended into laughter.

Scowling again, England quickly looked for his victim, a devious look flitting across his face when he noticed a particular Nation in his birthday suit.

"France," he said gruffly, and all laughter stopped almost immediately. "Truth or dare?"

France gave such a smile that would have been almost swoon-worthy if shown to the right person. Given that the smile was shown to England, however, he merely received a glare for his efforts. "Dare, if you would. I'm not afraid like _someone_."

England resisted the urge to roll his eyes…barely. "I dare you to keep your clothes on for at least ten minutes."

Gasps were heard throughout the room. France merely laughed. "Ten minutes? Certainly." And then, as if he were putting on a show, he ever so slowly and sensually pulled on his rose-printed satin pajamas.

England gave up on trying not to roll his eyes as he pulled out a stopwatch. "Time starting…now." The seconds ticked by, many eyes focused on France.

One minute passed. Two. Three, and now France was starting to get twitchy. Four minutes. Five.

At six minutes on the dot, the intensity of the stares finally broke France. He couldn't stand the fact that he finally had everyone's attention, and yet he was showing nothing.

"_Je me rends!_" he shouted, throwing off his pajamas and simultaneously donning a rose.

"I knew you couldn't do it, you perverted frog," England said smugly, crossing his arms.

"Why should I hide my body? It's a work of art," France sang, trying to move closer to Veneziano. The glares shot by both Germany and Romano, however, sent him scuttling closer to Spain.

"_Espagne_," he said smoothly, ignoring Romano's shout of disapproval. "Truth or dare?"

Spain grinned at his longtime friend. "Da—"

"Spain!" Romano shouted, diving over and shoving his hand over Spain's mouth, much to France's dismay. "This is France we're talking about. _France_. The only safe option is truth, and even then, who knows how he'll pervert it!"

"But Romano," Spain started once the hand had been removed. At Romano's glare however, he just smiled and shrugged. "Alright, then. Truth."

If France was disappointed, he hid it well. "Tell me, Spain, who was the best person you've ever slept with?"

"What?" Romano shouted, jumping up from his seat. "You can't ask that! That's a personal question!"

Spain grabbed Romano's arm, firmly pulling him back down. "It's alright, Romano. It is a game and I did choose truth." He smiled at France again. "Romano."

Later, all those present would swear that Romano turned redder than a tomato when he jumped out of his seat and began strangling Spain. "Don't fucking tell them that, you damn bastard! That's fucking personal!"

Alarmed, Veneziano started crying and tugging at Germany's arm. "Germany! Big brother is going to kill Brother Spain! Help him!" Sighing, Germany hurried over to the struggling Nations, giving Romano a firm yank.

"Let me go you potato-bastard! He's still fucking breathing!" Romano shouted, weak punches flying in Germany's general direction.

Spain, finally catching his breath, shot Romano a concerned look. "What's wrong, Romano? I love sleeping with you. You're always so warm and cuddly. It's the best eight to twelve hours every time."

Romano's struggling stopped abruptly as the room erupted into laughter again.

"Eight to twelve hours! No wonder Romano is always so grumpy!"

"Is that even possible?"

"Is it even healthy?"

"Go Spain!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Romano shouted, causing more laughter. "You guys have the wrong fucking idea! Spain misunderstood the damn question. He's talking about…actually sleeping together. Not…the other thing!"

Silence more or less reigned again, broken only by a couple of giggles.

"Is that true, Spain?" France asked quietly. Spain nodded, still grinning brightly, even when France face-palmed. "I meant, who was the best lover you've ever had?"

"Oh! Well that's—" Spain was cut off by Romano's hand covering his mouth again.

"Spain already answered your question, wine bastard. It's not our fault you worded it wrong. Spain, pick someone." Romano removed his hand while France pouted. The night was just not going his way.

"Fine," Spain said brightly. "Romano," he ignored the resulting groan. "Truth or dare?"

Romano thought about it for a moment. This was Spain. That meant, the potential for an embarrassing truth from the oblivious Nation was high, whereas the potential for an embarrassing dare was slightly lower. "Dare."

There was an odd glint in Spain's eye, one that no one could recall seeing since the Golden Century. "Romano. I dare you…to give a _genuine_ smile."

Prussia started laughing so hard he fell out of his seat. "Romano! Smiling? Spain, you just gave him an impossible dare!" His laughter only doubled when Romano shot a glare at him. "See? He can't do it!"

"I can too, you damn potato-bastard!" Romano yelled, seething.

"Prove it!" Someone, most likely Denmark, shouted when Prussia couldn't catch his breath to respond.

Prove it. Genuine smile. Romano could do that. How hard could it be, really? Just…ignore the laughter. Think about something happy. Pasta? Well, that's ok. Tomatoes? That's something. Better than pasta, but…Germany getting hurt? There. Romano had a slight smile, but when he looked at Spain, he was given a shake of the head.

"That's too small, Romano. Not genuine enough," Spain told him gently, giving him a smile that was definitely genuine.

Romano sighed and closed his eyes. Happy…happy. Something warm. Something happy. What about…then. That night. The happiest night of his life, not that he had ever told _him_ that, but what _he_ doesn't know won't hurt him.

The next thing Romano knew, he was being glomped by a beaming Spain. "Romano! Your smile is _so cute_! What did you think of?"

Romano struggled in Spain's embrace, before finally pushing him away, his cheeks reddening. "I thought of Germany getting what's coming to him for corrupting Veneziano," he grumbled.

"Then why are your cheeks red?" Prussia shouted, his laughter having died out when Romano smiled.

"Shut up, asshole," Romano growled, causing Prussia to dissolve into laughter again. Rolling his eyes, Romano turned to Germany. "Potato-bastard. Truth or dare?"

Germany looked at Romano, quickly comparing the two choices in his mind. No matter what he chose, it was likely that Romano was going to try to embarrass him. Letting out a deep sigh, Germany closed his eyes as he said "Truth," missing Romano's devilish smile.

"What is a hobby that no one knows you have?"

Germany stared at him for a moment. All in all, that truth wasn't too bad, considering. True, the answer would be a bit embarrassing but… it wasn't the end of the world. He'd just have to deal with Prussia's teasing every once in awhile. Nothing unusual there. "Baking cakes."

Prussia's outraged response was drowned out, however, when Veneziano let out a loud squeal and threw himself on Germany. "Why didn't you tell me, Germany? All those times I cooked for you, we could have baked together! I promise, next time I'm in the kitchen, I'll invite you to make dessert with me. It will be so much fun!"

Germany nodded, waiting for a break in Veneziano's ramble. "Veneziano," he finally got out. Veneziano was currently hanging off his neck and rambling, but he quieted when he heard his name. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth!" Veneziano declared, forgetting how close in proximity he still was to Germany, and therefore causing Germany to wince.

Germany, while he had expected Veneziano to pick truth, was for once unprepared. He stared at him, his mind working a mile a minute to come up with something. This was the only opportunity he had, and he could ask anything he wanted to know about his hyperactive friend. In fact, he could use this to get to the bottom of some unsolved mysteries, such as the mysterious invasion of pasta into his kitchen that Veneziano denied doing.

"Who…" _brought all of that pasta into my house _"…was your first crush?" Germany's eyes widened nearly the moment the words left his mouth. That was _not_ what he meant to ask.

Veneziano dropped his arms from around Germany's neck in shock and stare at him, neither hearing the groans of a few Western European countries behind them. A split second later, however, Veneziano gave a small shake of his head and was back to his smiling self, the moment of shock completely 'forgotten.' "Ve~ Germany is so silly. That was so long ago, I don't remember!"

"Bullshit!" Prussia shouted, jumping to his feet. "You know full well that your first crush was—"

"Prussia!" Veneziano exclaimed, pointing and cutting him off mid-sentence. "Truth or dare?"

Prussia looked perplexed. Had Veneziano really just metaphorically cock blocked _him_, Prussia? Maybe he was smarter than everyone thought after all.

Giving a cocky grin, Prussia chose dare, causing Veneziano to let out a squeal of delight.

"Prussia, I dare you to circle around each person in the room five times each!"

"…That's all?" So much for Veneziano being smarter than Prussia thought. The dare was rather weak.

Then again, once he had finished his dare and been groped by no less than three different Nations, threatened with physical violence by no less than ten different Nations, and was utterly dizzy after all of the circles, he had newfound respect for the evil side of Veneziano.

"Denmark," Prussia grumbled a moment later, the room still spinning. "Truth or dare?"

Denmark, who had been laughing at Prussia's green face, sat up straighter, replacing the boisterous laughter with a few quiet chuckles. "Dare, of course. You think I'm a pansy or something?"

Prussia shrugged, flashing a cocky grin again as the dizziness went away. "Don't you know it? Why don't you just go and kiss Finland then?"

Finland let out a gasp while Sweden sent a glare in Prussia's direction.

"Prussia," Finland choked out, looking between the murderous Sweden and the once-again laughing Denmark. "You can't do that! What if I don't want to be kissed by him?"

Prussia snorted and shrugged. "Of course I can to do that. Just did, didn't I? Now shut up and take it like a man, Finland."

"But-" Finland's response was cut off by Denmark's sudden kiss. Finland tried to pull away, but Denmark simply put his hand on the back of his head and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

"Thas 'nuff," Sweden growled, pulling Denmark away from the stunned, breathless Finland.

"Aw, you're no fun," Denmark grumbled at Sweden before licking his lips. "And for that, it's your turn. Dare or dare, Sweden?"

"We're pl'ying _tr'th_ 'r d're."

Denmark rolled his eyes, giving Sweden a touch-harder-than-was-friendly punch on the shoulder. "That's what I said! Dare or dare?"

Sweden thought about saying truth just to spite Denmark, but he quickly decided that Denmark would feign deafness, and so, holding back a sigh, he grumbled, "D're," and immediately regretted it when he saw the evil grin on Denmark's face.

"I dare you to sing and dance to Caramelldansen!"

"B' m'self?"

Denmark chuckled, but Sweden barely heard it over the laughter that infected the room. "Of course, by yourself! Hey, Japan?"

"Yes, Denmark-san?" Japan asked, getting his quiet laughter under control quickly.

"Do you happen to have the background music we could play for our dear _Su-san_? I'm sure he would greatly appreciate it."

"Of course, Denmark-san," Japan nodded. Quickly, he pulled out his laptop, and, after pushing a few keys, hovered his finger over a button. "Let me know when you are ready, Sweden-san."

Sweden glanced at Finland who merely smiled and waved for him to go ahead. Taking a deep breath and mentally preparing himself, he stood up straighter and then nodded. Japan hit the button, and the beginning of a catchy techno song began to play throughout the room. Sweden nodded his head slightly to the music, getting used to the timing. About twenty seconds in, the music changed a bit and Sweden raised his hands above his head. A second later, he was moving his hips in time to the music and flapping his hands. The room fell silent except for the music and then…laughter louder than anything heard before began. Of all of the possible dances, no one had expected Sweden to choose _that_ dance, and, well, it looked even sillier with the large Nation dancing it, scowling darkly.

Then came time for the words. "Vi undrar är ni redo att vara med," Sweden started, once again startling everyone. Not only did he know the words, but there was no cutting them off, no grunting, nothing. He also kept up with the background music surprisingly well.

Finland was one of the very few Nations not laughing. His whole attention was focused on Sweden, especially his hips. Who knew that he could move like that? "Gör som vi till denna melodi." Did Sweden just look at Finland and _wink_? Finland felt his blood rushing south, much to his embarrassment. Shifting slightly in his seat, Finland kept watching Sweden who would constantly look right at him. Finland got the vague impression that Sweden was singing the song _to him_ instead of for the dare.

"Nu är vi här med caramelldansen," Sweden finished, only slightly out of breath, and retook his seat next to the squirming Finland. "S'wrong?" Sweden muttered to Finland underneath the noise of laughter and applause.

Finland shook his head. "Nothing," he whispered back, turning away from Sweden.

Sweden looked hurt, but then Denmark appeared behind him and clapped him on the back. "You turned him on, you know," Denmark leaned down to whisper in his ear, causing Sweden to choke.

"Wh't?"

"You heard me," Denmark said before straightening and walking away, laughing to himself.

A quick glance validated Denmark's statement. "F'nl'nd," Sweden said, louder than their previous conversation. The other Nations got the hint that the game was continuing and fell silent again. "Tr'th 'r d're?"

Had it been any other time, Finland would have chosen dare. But, dares were likely to include standing or moving, and Finland really didn't want to announce his problem to the whole world. "Truth."

"Did y' _enj'y_ th't?" Sweden asked.

Finland looked up at him, shocked when he noticed Sweden was blushing. Why did he emphasize enjoy? Did he know? Seeing Denmark cracking up behind Sweden, Finland sighed. Yes, he did know. Denmark probably told him. "Yes," Finland said truthfully. Then, quickly before anything else could be said, Finland turned to his other neighbor. "Norway, truth or dare?"

Norway looked faintly amused as he answered, "Truth."

"Do you like Denmark?" Truth be told, Finland didn't care all that much. He just wanted his turn done and over with quickly, and that was the first question that came to mind.

Norway glared at Finland who didn't notice, his attention focused more on Sweden's previous performance than the game. "Yes, but not like you like Sweden," he snapped.

Finland nodded absentmindedly before standing, ignoring when Denmark fell out of his seat. "Great to know. Come on Sweden," Finland said, grabbing Sweden's arm in a surprising show of strength and leading him out of the room.

Norway rolled his eyes before meeting Iceland's across the table. "Iceland, truth or dare?"

"Truth," Iceland said quietly, his attention moving from Norway's eyes to the closing door and back again.

"What is—" Norway cut off to turn and glare at Denmark who had recovered and was now poking him. "What is—" Another poke. Norway took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself while Iceland looked on in amusement. "Denmark," Norway started softly, though the not-yet voiced threat was loud and clear. "If you don't stop poking me, I assure you that you will be unable to use your fingers for weeks."

"Oh, but you like it~" Denmark sing-songed. Never-the-less, he moved his hands away, instead choosing to sit ridiculously close.

Heaving a sigh, Norway looked across the table at the grinning Iceland. "What is the most embarrassing thing you've ever seen Denmark do?"

"Come on Nor! That's not fair to ask!"

"My turn, my question. Go on, Iceland."

Iceland chuckled as various memories came to mind. "The most embarrassing thing I've seen Denmark do?" He repeated and Norway nodded. "It would probably be the time Denmark was practicing with his axe outside and—"

"You can stop right there, Iceland," Denmark interjected. "You—"

"Oh, be quiet," Norway muttered, hitting him in the arm. "Continue, Iceland."

"He was outside practicing with his axe and there were a couple of centimeters of snow on the ground, so he slipped, and instead of just falling, he wound up sliding down this hill and landing on a lake. His axe landed on the ice behind him, cracking it, and he fell through. Every time he tried to get out, he kept falling back in…and he ended up having to ask me to help him out." Iceland paused, signaling the end of his story. "Sealand, truth or dare?"

Sealand jumped up from where he was hiding behind England, quickly hiding something behind his back. "Woah, me, really?" He beamed, overjoyed at being acknowledged… even if not as a Nation quite yet. Not to worry, though. There was still time. "Dare!"

"Wait a minute," England interrupted, glaring at Sealand. "What are you doing here? And what are you hiding behind your back?"

"Papa brought me because he couldn't find a babysitter," Sealand told him innocently, ignoring the second question.

Iceland smiled and before England could start to argue said, "I dare you to say one nice thing about England."

"Wha—That's not fair Iceland! That's more like a truth than a dare!" Iceland shrugged and Sealand sighed. "Fine! England…I…I…" He trailed off, but Iceland waved him on. "I don't think your cooking is all that bad! Latvia! Truth or dare?"

Latvia let out a sound of surprise. He should have expected to have been called, but it still came as a shock for some reason. "T-truth," he stuttered.

Sealand grinned and said, "Do you acknowledge me as a Nation?"

Latvia flushed and turned away, unable to look him in the eye. "I-I acknowledge you as a brother but I-I can't…as a Nation…sorry." Sealand looked disheartened and Latvia, feeling guilty, quickly moved on. "Estonia, t-truth or dare?"

Estonia gave Latvia a comforting smile. "Truth."

"Oh, um." Latvia bit his lip, trying to think of a question quickly. "What's your favorite sport?"

"Rugby." Latvia nodded and Estonia skimmed the remaining countries.

"Ugh, you guys are boring! Pick me already!" Sometime during the course of the game, Poland had taken to lying in a sleeping bag. Now, however, he sat up, giving Estonia a _look_ that dared him not to pick him.

"Ok, then, Poland, truth or dare?"

"Dare!"

Estonia looked from Poland to America and back again. "I dare you to wear America's jacket for the rest of the night."

"What?" Both America and Poland shouted.

"You can't do that! It's my jacket!" America whined.

England, chuckling darkly, shook his head. "It was your idea to play this game, after all, America. If you don't let Poland wear your jacket, you're going to be, oh, what's the word? …A loser."

America shrugged out of his jacket, looking miserable, and handed it out to Poland.

"Ew." Poland scrunched up his nose. "That bomber jacket is like, so forties. It's retro eek. I wouldn't be caught dead in that…thing!"

"Hey, you don't have to be mean," America muttered, dropping his arm and holding the jacket close.

"You chose dare, Poland," Estonia reminded him.

"Ugh, fine. Give me that miserable excuse for a fashion statement." Poland put his hand out, waiting for America.

America frowned and dropped the jacket in Poland's hand. "Take good care of it."

Poland rolled his eyes as he put it on. "Gross. It smells like old leather, motor oil, and hamburgers. What do you do in this?"

"I—"

"No. I don't even want to hear it. Liet! Truth or dare?"

"Truth," Lithuania sighed. He had had an inkling that his turn was coming.

"Great. You're being boring, too." Poland flopped back on the floor, puffing his cheeks out and staring at the ceiling. In his peripheral vision, he saw the door open and Finland walk back into the room, followed by a slightly limping Sweden. "Damn. I owe Hungary money," he grumbled. "This night totally reeks."

"Um, Poland. You have to ask me a truth?" Lithuania looked down at the sprawled out Nation.

"Oh right. Who do you like living with the best, me or America?"

Lithuania winced but Poland was no longer paying attention, having grown completely bored with the game. "You." There were a couple of snorts throughout the room, but no one said anything thankfully.

It was his turn to pick someone out. Who… "Belarus, truth or dare?"

Belarus stared at him.

"Truth or dare?" Lithuania asked again, still smiling, even if he felt it twitching.

Belarus heaved a sigh, looking for all the world like this game was a great inconvenience to her. "Truth."

"Will you ever go out with me?"

"LIET!" Poland sat up, throwing his pillow at the back of Lithuania's head. "She's a crazy psycho bitch!"

Belarus turned her glare on Poland who let out an "Eep" and hid behind Lithuania.

"No. Brother, truth or dare?"

Russia paled. A dare would almost definitely result in having to sign a marriage certificate. But truth? Who knows what was going on in her mind? "Truth."

"Do you love me?"

Russia nearly choked. "Yes." Like a sister, since that's what she was. But she looked pleased and Russia thought it best to move on quickly. "Ukraine, truth or dare?"

"Oh! Um," Ukraine, flustered, began to wring her hands. "Ah, dare?"

Russia stood up and walked over to Ukraine. She pulled back slightly, unsure of what he had planned. "I dare you to let your hair down for the night," he said quietly, removing her headband and hairclips. "You look much prettier without them."

Even redder, Ukraine nodded and took her hair decorations from Russia. "Ok."

Russia gave her one of his innocent smiles and retook his seat. "It is your turn."

"Right." Ukraine glanced around the room, unable to do anything but smile when she saw Turkey all but hold a sign above Greece's head. "Greece," she said, causing him to jerk awake. "Truth or dare?"

Greece blinked blearily. "Truth?"

"Why," Ukraine paused momentarily, giggling when a cat poked its head out of Greece's shirt, "Why do cats follow you?"

Greece gave a shrug before removing the cat and placing it on his lap. "I don't know for sure. I think it's because they feel as if we are kindred spirits. It could be because of my personality. Perhaps they're just waiting for the chance to attack Turkey. I don't know but I like them and the feeling seems mutual." Greece looked around the room, trying to figure out who and who hadn't gone yet.

He was just about to say Egypt's name when Turkey called out "Dare!"

Greece glared, now wide awake. "I wasn't going to call on you!"

"Well, I'm going. Give me a dare!"

"You're a jerk," Greece growled. The cat mimicked him.

Turkey laughed and leant back in his chair. "You love it. What's the dare?"

Greece thought long and hard for a moment. What would be a good dare for Turkey? "I dare you…" Greece trailed off, looking almost bored.

"Come on already," Turkey growled.

"Hm… I dare you…" Greece began again. "I dare you to gobble like a turkey after every sentence for the rest of the night."

"What?" Turkey exclaimed, throwing his hands down on the table. "That's stupid!"

"I don't believe I heard any gobbling. Are you backing down from the challenge?" Greece glared, silently daring Turkey to keep complaining.

"Argh. Gobble. You're an ass. Gobble, gobble." Greece looked faintly pleased. "Whatever. Gobble. Egypt. Dare, right? Gobble."

Egypt stared at Turkey.

"No. Gobble. You don't get a choice. Gobble. I dare you to say ten words! Gobble, gobble." Turkey hit the table for emphasis. Greece muttered something about not destroying the table, but Turkey completely ignored him.

"What if I do not wish to say ten words?" Egypt asked, eyes glinting.

"You have no choice! It's a dare!" Turkey yelled. Greece shot him another glare. "Gobble, gobble," he added lamely.

Egypt grinned, waiting for realization to dawn on Turkey.

"…You said ten words. Gobble. Both of you are assholes. Gobble," Turkey sighed, sitting back in his chair, defeated.

Egypt caught Hungary's eye and she smiled. "Truth," she told him.

"If you had to some yourself up in one word, what would it be?"

Prussia coughed suddenly, sounding awfully close to "crazy." A quick frying pan later and his coughing fit was solved.

"Hm," Hungary murmured, nonchalantly walking over and retrieving the frying pan. "That's a good question. I think, maybe, reliable?" She nodded, absently caressing the pan with her hand. "Yes, reliable."

She looked back at Egypt for confirmation of his turn being over and when he nodded, she glanced over to Austria. "Truth or dare, dear?"

"Hmph," Austria huffed, crossing his arms. "I would rather not choose either."

Hungary laughed and shook her head. "Don't be a spoilsport. Come on… truth or dare?"

Austria sighed. "Truth."

Hungary grinned a devious grin. Finally. She finally had a chance to get to the bottom of one of the greatest mysteries of her marriage. "What is it that you do in the kitchen that causes banging noises and explosions?"

Austria gave her a blank look. "What are you talking about?"

"In the kitchen, when you're baking. What do you do that makes so much noise?"

"Nothing. You must be hearing things. Perhaps you should stop spending so much time with Prussia." Austria sighed again and looked around the room. "Ah, Switzerland. Truth or dare?"

Switzerland focused his intense look on Austria. What to choose? He frowned. There was a lot of history behind him and Austria… there could be some embarrassing questions that Austria could ask. And this was _Austria_. What was the worst dare he could come up with, really? "Dare."

Austria blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected that. "Oh. I dare you to declare that Frédéric Chopin was one of the greatest musical composers of all time."

Switzerland raised an eyebrow. "But he wasn't even yours!" Austria looked unconcerned and Switzerland rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever. Chopin was one of the greatest musical composers of all time," he deadpanned. "Liechtenstein. Truth or dare?"

"Truth, brother," Liechtenstein said softly, smiling slightly.

Switzerland's look of annoyance melted a touch. "What is your favorite color?"

The room was filled with loud cries of "you can't ask that! It's too simple!" and complaints, but one sharp glare from Switzerland and it was once again silent.

Liechtenstein hid a giggle behind her hand. "Pink." Switzerland nodded and Liechtenstein looked across the room. "Seychelles, truth or dare?"

"Dare!" Seychelles exclaimed, jumping up from her chair. "And make it a good one!"

"Hee, I'll try," Liechtenstein told her, laughing again. "How about…I dare you to let, erm, England! England do your hair."

"I don't want to do her hair," England grumbled. Liechtenstein gave him a pleading look (emphasized by a not-so-pleading look from Switzerland) and he huffed. "Fine."

Seychelles shook her head. "No. No way. I'm not letting jerk England—" Sealand interrupted with a "Hell yeah!" but was silenced almost immediately by Sweden "—touch my hair! Liech! I thought we were friends," she whined.

Liechtenstein looked down at her hands. "I'm—I'm sorry Seychelles. Would you rather I gave a truth instead?"

"No," Seychelles sighed. "But!" She rounded on England, shoving her finger in his face. "No cutting my hair and no weird magic!"

England growled and pointed to a chair. "Just sit." Seychelles did and England took her hair out of their customary pigtails. "Do you have a brush?" he asked. She shook her head, but someone in the room threw a brush at them which landed with a clatter on the floor. "Thanks." He picked it up and ran it through Seychelles' hair, then stepped back. "Done."

"Done?" Seychelles questioned, running her hand through her hair. "All you did was brush it!"

"Would you rather I do more?" England snapped.

"No, no, it's fine," Seychelles said quickly, shaking her head. It could have been worse, after all. "Taiwan, truth or dare?"

Taiwan thought for a moment, not sure what to choose at all. Finally, she looked up at the expectant Seychelles and quietly said, "Dare."

"Yeah!" Seychelles fist-pumped into the air. "Glad to see you're showing some fighting spirit. I dare you to," she paused for dramatic effect. "Build a stack of stuff that's taller than Russia!"

"But, Seychelles," Taiwan laughed. "He's much taller than I am. How am I supposed to build a stack that high once I can no longer reach?"

"I will help," Russia offered, standing up. "I need to stand by it for measurements anyway, da?"

Taiwan nodded. "I suppose that will work."

"Good! Get started Tai!" Seychelles exclaimed, pointing to the empty spot next to Russia.

The first thing Taiwan moved was a chair. Placing it next to Russia brought her stack to about his waist. Humming, she moved around the room, grabbing books, notebooks, boxes of food, anything that anyone was willing to donate for the cause. Finally, after standing on tip toes to toss a can of… _something_ (she wasn't really sure what or even if she truly wanted to know) on top, she shook her head. "I can't go any higher. Here, Russia. Can you put this on top for me, please?" She asked, handing him a still rolled-up sleeping bag.

Russia smiled at her and took the sleeping bag, carefully placing it on top. "There. The stack is now taller than me," he said, moving back slightly as the stack started to slant dangerously.

"Thank you, Russia," Taiwan gave him a smile before moving away from the sharply tilting stack as well. "China. Truth or—" she was cut off by a loud crash as the stack came tumbling down. Looking undisturbed, she repeated, "China. Truth or dare?"

If China was surprised at being chosen, he hid it well. Absently, he put the cup of tea he had been sipping down on the table, focusing his attention on Taiwan. "Truth."

Taiwan watched China for a moment, considering him as she came up with a question. "Have you," she began slowly, still mentally wording it as she spoke, "ever had relations with one of your citizens?"

"I do not think that it's really any of your concern," China said carefully, picking up the cup and calmly taking a sip of his tea.

"You picked truth!" Someone yelled. "Answer it or ask for a dare!"

China sighed and returned the cup to the table. "Yes." Taiwan looked as if she wanted to press for more information, but China didn't give her the chance. "Hong Kong, truth or dare?"

"Dare," Hong Kong told him, no emotion crossing his face.

China opened his mouth to say one thing but quickly closed it. This could actually be a really good opportunity. All night Korea had been moving closer and closer to him, obviously wanting China to acknowledge him. He could use this chance to stop him in his tracks. "I dare you to sit in Korea's lap for the rest of the game."

Hong Kong nodded but Korea shook his head vehemently. "No way!" Korea shouted. He was still pouting when Hong Kong stood in front him, staring. "Fine," Korea sighed, and Hong Kong sat, looking and feeling slightly awkward but ignoring it.

"Well, since we're already close--" Korea snorted at Hong Kong's statement "—Korea, truth or dare?"

"Dare!" Korea shouted, causing Hong Kong to wince.

"I dare you to try licking your elbow while singing that song Italy likes," Hong Kong told him, a faint smile flitting across his face.

"No problem!" Korea bent his arm, not apologizing when he accidentally hit Hong Kong, and stuck his tongue out. "Draw." He tried to get closer to his elbow. "A circle." The tune was nearly nonexistent as Korea focused on the elbow. "There's." He stretched. "The earth."

"You tried. You can stop now," Hong Kong said calmly. Truly, it was painful to watch—Korea hadn't stopped accidentally hitting him.

Korea dropped his arm, flushing faintly. "Japan! Truth or dare?"

"Me?" Japan asked, looking up from the laptop screen. When Korea nodded, Japan cast a wistful look at the screen before answering. "Truth?"

"What do you like most about me?" Korea looked excited and appeared almost ready to jump up to emphasize his point, only remembering Hong Kong when he was elbowed.

"Oh, well," Japan looked around the room, trying to focus on anything but Korea's hopeful expression. "Your er, energy?"

"Really?" Korea did jump up this time and sent Hong Kong falling to the floor. Hong Kong yanked at his clothes and Korea gave him a sheepish look, helping him up. "Haha, sorry about that," Korea muttered.

"Cuba," Japan said, watching Korea and Hong Kong return to their seat out of the corner of his eye. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," Cuba grunted, turning his attention on Japan.

Japan nodded and quickly typed something on his laptop. He looked down at the screen then back up at Cuba. "I dare you to carry America around the room."

"I'm not touching him!" Cuba shouted, shaking his head. "Gimme a truth instead."

"You can't change your mind!" Another voice shouted. It was quickly followed by a muttered, "Ow! Gobble gobble, you fucking bastard."

Cuba glared in Turkey's direction while America looked at Japan, eyes wide. Had he really thought the dare through? Didn't he know that Cuba _hated_ him?

"Fine!" Cuba exclaimed, stalking over and picking America up.

"Don't drop me," America cautioned when Cuba began stomping around the room.

"Whatever," Cuba muttered. The circle finished, he unceremoniously dropped America back in his chair before stalking back to his own seat.

"America!" He pointed at Canada. "Tru—"

"I'm Canada," he sighed.

Cuba blinked. Suddenly he saw that right next to the pouting America was someone who looked a lot like him…and then remembered that America had a brother. "Oh, yeah, Canada. Truth or dare?"

"Truth," Canada told him, smiling. Maybe he'd be asked something good!

"Erm, what's your favorite ice cream flavor?"

Canada's smile faltered. That… was a really normal question. "Maple," he told him, his smile growing a bit stronger again. "America," he turned to his brother. Why he even bothered asking, he didn't know. It was obvious what he would choose. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare, of course!" America exclaimed, having gotten over being dropped by Cuba.

Canada's smile turned almost evil. "Fine. I dare you…" he trailed off, then waved America closer. America laughed and leaned in, and Canada whispered the dare. Protests of that being unfair floated around the room, but the brothers ignored it.

America pulled away, pale. "That's not fair! I told you that in the strictest confidence!"

"It's your dare, America. Do it or forfeit," Canada said sternly. He couldn't help but smile, though. Who knew truth or dare could be so fun?

"Fine," America grumbled, standing stiffly. He took a deep breath and walked over to Russia. "Russia, I—I," he trailed off, looking back at Canada. Canada crossed his arms and nodded for America to go on, grinning wickedly. America narrowed his eyes, before returning to Russia. "I—love you," he said. Then, almost as an afterthought, he stood on tip-toe and gave Russia a peck on the cheek. The room was filled with an odd silence as he took a step back.

"Is that true, or is it only the dare?" Russia asked, his voice soft.

America flushed and turned away. "I'm never talking to Canada aga—" America's grumbling was cut off when Russia bent down to kiss him. The room exploded into various expressions and catcalls.

Having come full circle, it was decided that the game was over.

ooOOoo

When the bosses returned the next morning, they were amazed at the complete and utter chaos they found surrounding the sleeping Nations. Not only had the room been nearly destroyed (with an odd pile of various items off to one side), but some of the Nations appeared to have switched clothes or were in otherwise questionable states of dress. Sleeping partners were unexpected. The food was completely devoured. On the middle of the table laid a bear.

But everyone was alive. The bosses declared the sleepover a success and went to rouse the Nations. This would have to become an annual event.

ooOOoo

_Notes:  
Je me rends! -- I surrender!  
Espagne – Spain  
If my admittedly feeble research is to be believed, the lines "Vi undrar är ni redo att vara med", "Gör som vi till denna melodi", and "Nu är vi här med caramelldansen" mean "We wonder, are you ready to join us now", "You and me can sing this melody," and "Now we are here with the Caramell dancing" respectively._

_A kind reader has informed me that the second line actually means "Do like us to the melody" and the third means "Now we are here with the caramel dance." Thanks!_

_Thank you for reading!_


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